


Così rotondo, così bella

by Victorygin



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3
Genre: F/M, point lookout
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-16 02:45:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7248931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Victorygin/pseuds/Victorygin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He liked fat. The plumpness, and curve of the arse and the rolls on their stomach as he bent them over the nearest surface in the heat of passion. The shake and quake and ripples of skin over all that softness…oh yes…it was the softness he missed. One-shot adapted from Chaplain, Exile, Paragon</p>
            </blockquote>





	Così rotondo, così bella

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me at: http://victoryygin.tumblr.com/

The marshlands stunk of rot and were so wet that Percy had to cling to the trees and roots; otherwise she’d be swimming in muck. The boardwalk had something similar to a general store, and a few kooky establishments and motel rooms with little more than a hundred caps worth of scrap between them. She hadn’t seen much in the way of people beyond the boardwalk however, and with the swamps taking up most of the eastern areas, she was more inclined to wander closer and closer to the mansion Tobar had warned her about. What could be so dangerous about a big old house? And another thing: she hadn’t seen much in the way of fellow tourists, much less locals. This entire place was getting to be one big disappointment. There was game, but no tourists to sell to. If there were no tourists, and she couldn’t sell to locals, who the hell was she supposed to sell to?

“I bet hardly anyone’s touched that place if everyone keeps away…” She mused, looking in the direction of the looming mansion by the seashore. “Could probably find some old world stuff to sell…or not to sell…” Musing turned to longing as she thought of all the clothes, books, and other pre-war baubles she could find in a place like that. Tobar had sold this area so _up_ it was practically through the hypothetical roof, so was anything else he said that trustworthy? Maybe he just wanted to save the scrap for himself.

“Looks fancy. The people who owned it forever ago probably had a wine cellar in the basement.”

Back in the vault, she had read about all the preservatives businesses would put in their edibles. Fruit, steak, even eggs would last indefinitely past their natural expiration date. With the nation constantly living in fear of bombs falling, preservation of necessities became a craft well perfected. And the label of necessity quickly extended to spirits as hostilities mounted. Pre-war scientists made it such that the alcohol wouldn’t evaporate from the rest of the solvent, and so long as nothing bad got into the bottle, even wine would stay good until it was drunk.

Percy had thoroughly made up her mind, when she heard a loud guttural holler from far behind her.

“Hooooweeee! Brother! I found another one!”

“Hot damn, son! Let’s git’em!”

Percy had just enough time to turn before they began shooting at her.

 _‘Shotguns…’_ Percy dived for cover over a shallow cliff as a bullet whizzed by a foot from her ear. _‘And hunting rifles.’_

What the hell _were_ they? From a distance they looked deformed, but as they got closer, she was able to make out boils, lumps, and tumors so big and numerous, they made up at least half of one of the fucker’s arms.

There were two of them, and the one that wasn’t big was fast. And _he_ had the long double barrel. The muck weighing down her pants was also keeping her boots from separating themselves from ground. She wouldn’t make it far running. With one well tossed grenade she was able to take out the bigger one—either because he was too slow or because he was too stupid to realize the danger of the explosive that settled at his feet before going off. He melted in a chunky mass of irradiated plasma. The faster one was almost on her. It would take too long to pull out and ready her own rifle, so the ten millimeter sub would have to do. She dashed for the mansion, shooting off rounds at her assailant as he gained on her. Her thighs burned and she very nearly tripped over her boots as she turned to aim for his legs. Her heart thumped in her chest, her shoulders shook and she tried to steady her breathing as she was left with no choice but to let out a shuddering breath and fire.

Her aggressor wailed as his left leg was mangled in a rain of bullets. It barely slowed him down, but it did give her enough time to run for the front porch and more cover. Pulling the rifle off of her back, she rounded one of the support beams and took a knee before steading her gun against the railing of the veranda.

“You have one last chance to back off before I blow your brains out, you hear me?!”

He didn’t hear her. Or didn’t care. The latter was more likely. He was blinded by rage and bloodlust, not even bothering to reload his gun as he ran for her. His face exploded in a shower of skull and brain as the rest of his body took a few moments to realize there was no head to guide it. Thoroughly freaked out by this, Percy started firing into his chest until a voice rang out through the crackling speakers.

“For fuck’s sake, he’s dead! Now get in here and help me with these damn invaders if you’re so eager to kill.”

She jumped, turning to see a camera pointed right at her. “I thought this place was empty!”

“Well it bloody well was before I got here! Now get in here, Killer, and help me!”

* * *

 

Desmond startled as the front door slammed shut. His dogs usually alerted him to intruders, but he quickly remembered his guest, and by the sound of wet stomping down the hall, her scoping out of their little friends had been less than pleasant. He found her in the bathroom, stripping down and furiously scrubbing the caked mud off her skin. He leaned against the door as he watched her get, if not clean, than a little less dirty. She was a little too young for his taste. Young and thin. He hated the trend of wiry muscle and sharp joints that had perpetuated the world since it ended. He liked fat. The plumpness, and curve of the arse and the rolls on their stomach as he bent them over the nearest surface in the heat of passion. The shake and quake and ripples of skin over all that softness…oh yes…it was the softness he missed. And the give.

But an ass was an ass, and he enjoyed the view all the same. Percy looked over her shoulder at him, neither impressed with his blatant staring nor caring enough to cover herself up. She scrubbed extra hard on her arms, between her fingers, and under her nails. She knew there wasn’t any ash—there never had been in the first place, not really—but she just wanted to make sure. She wanted to scrub it out of her mind. “Got any irradiated water?”

“Why would a smoothskin like yourself want that poison? Or is that rust water not killing you fast enough?” He asked snidely, eyes drifting to her chest as she turned. At least there was something there. Small, hardly a handful, but there was curve and perk.

“Do you have any or not?”

“Of course I fucking do, but I’m more interested in what happened out there. You look a little worse for wear, which is saying something in this hell hole. What the devil happened to your hair…and how did you get that scar?” His tone changed with the last question, but she ignored him. The kitchen was fully stocked with so much food and drink, that Percy wondered if Lockheart had collected it all, or if this mansion had really been untouched for this long. She grabbed a bottle of the glowing water from the shelf and emptied it out onto a towel before wrapping it around her scalp. She took another bottle and downed in it in a couple gulps. The tingle as it fell down her throat was so strong, it would have driven her pip-boy crazy.

“I said, how did you get that scar?”

She didn’t look at him as she said, “Those tribals had this ceremony that involves getting high on punga spores. I went on a really bad trip from it, but I have no idea how I got the scar. Based on where it is, they probably messed with my head—which I’m not too happy about. Nice to see you too, Desmond.”

“I’m not talking about that one, I’m not a bloody idiot. All the other tribals had one to match, or did you not fucking notice? No, I’m talking about that one on your back. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that a killer like yourself would enjoy bringing knives into the bedroom, but I’m a little more surprised that your other fetish hits closer to home.” He sneered.

Percy craned her head to try and see the scar he was referring to, but like before, it was just out of her sight. She knew what he was talking about though; how could she not? She had been so recently reminded of what that monster had done, after all.

“It’s not a fetish, Des. I didn’t get any of my scars voluntarily.”

“Is that so?”

* * *

 

Desmond couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I tell you to go get more information, and you get a girlfriend! I’ll stick my dogs on you if you don’t fucking get back out there!” Well, she probably wasn’t under any mind control at least, but she had been getting on his last nerve since the moment he had the displeasure of meeting her. This lonely wanderer, this…Percy was a thorn in his side since she showed up on his door step.

“Why didn’t you show me the brain scans? Those tribals are seriously messed up in the head.” Percy asked, leaned against the table, cleaning her gun. One of Desmond’s guard dogs came up to her and sniffed at her bag. She pulled out a can of cram, opened it, and pet him behind the ears as he ate. Desmond bristled at this.

“They've done something to your head. I wanted to make sure you weren’t under someone else’s control.”

“Someone _else’s??_ Let’s get a few things straight, you porn-stashed prick! I’m not under _your_ control—or anyone else’s for that matter— I don’t work for you, and I sure as hell won’t stand by as you ridicule me every time I step through the door! Let’s not forget you asked for _my_ help, and the only reason I’m still here is because they decided to make it personal by cutting open my head! Nadine has more experience with those tribals than I do, so why waste time sending me out if she’s here with all the information that I might not even be able to get?”

Percy stomped out of the room and made for the stairs. Desmond followed her to the railing. “Where the hell are you going now??”

“To bed! I’m exhausted from running everywhere and doing your dirty work! Nadine is in the kitchen; go introduce yourself and for fuck’s sake, _play_ _nice_!”

* * *

 

Desmond straightened his tie as he entered the kitchen. It did not escape him that Geri had followed Percy up to bed, wagging its tail. _‘Traitor.’_ He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Nadine. She was leaning against the counter, reading one of Percy’s books and sipping a cherry nuka-cola. She looked up as he entered. She smiled at him with a mouth full of drink, but he wasn’t looking at her face. Rolls…she had rolls. His eyes drifted down that beautiful belly of hers, down the ass spilling slightly over the stool she was sitting on to the thighs clenched together from her crossed ankles.

“Howdy partner! You must be Percy’s boss. Boy, did she have a lot to say about you!”

Desmond’s eyes shot back to her face. Then her hair. He had seen that hair before. He had seen _her_ before. She had been nosing around the mansion grounds a few weeks ago. He hadn’t gotten a good look at her at the time, but he wished he had. Filling his lungs with much needed air, he strode over to the bar. “I doubt she did me much justice. Although,” leaning in casually, he smirked, “she had nothing but kind words in regards to yourself. But I’d say she’s done no one justice today. You must be Nadine.”

Nadine nearly snorted cherry cola out her nose, but blushed all the same. Desmond liked that color on her. He wanted to see more of it. “And you must be that ‘Porn-stashed Prick’ I heard her yelling at earlier.”

Desmond clenched his knuckles, but the smile stayed in place. “We’ve both been a little stressed over recent circumstances, saying things we wouldn’t normally say.”

“Which is why we should get this business sorted out sooner rather than later, huh?” Nadine jumped from the stool, not wholly oblivious to his attention.

“Percy said you had done some brain scans?”

* * *

 

88“Yes that’s it!” Nadine leaned against him as she pointed at the screen. “That bastard! They stole from my head too, then?”

If it had not been for the delicious warmth on his arm, he would had burned with hate for her twisted assailant. How dare they harm even a single hair on this gorgeous woman’s head?

“I didn’t see a scar on you.” Desmond turned to her, looking hard at her hairline. The gold that stopped at her ear. It looked so soft, he couldn’t help put run a hand against it...to help look for the scar, of course. He found a tiny indent in her skin, about the length of a toothpick, running up and disappearing into her hair.

“I had a few stimpacks with me when I came too.” She breathed. His fingers felt so good. She could stare at those eyes of his for hours. Nadine had never seen a ghoul with so much hair before. She briefly wondered how that mustache would feel against her skin. But she shook herself, turning back to the terminal.

“So you think this part of the brain affects how easily people are influenced to do things?”

Desmond cleared his throat, following suit. “Yes, and my theory is that those tribals are being controlled by something akin to radio waves. The frequency travels far, but can go unnoticed by the unassisted ear.”

He showed her a paper tape with two lines. “There are always sound frequencies occurring that we can’t pick up, but these have a pattern. See?”

Nadine felt a shiver down her spine. “How do you know Percy and I aren’t being controlled?”

“I wondered that when Ms. Carter first came back, but from what I’ve seen, and what you have observed about the tribals during your time with them, I think the control only works on a primitive level: Increasing aggression towards one or more targets. And memory loss. If you and Percy had been under someone’s control you would have probably either killed me already, or had no recollection of any sort of spore based hallucination.”

Nadine shuddered to think of her own vision. Trapped, nowhere to go, no future, no past. No exits.

Desmond watched her. He had never cared for freckles before, especially ones so numerous. But the way they caught the light on Nadine’s face was quite lovely.

“Not to mention—and this was just my initial theory, but it seems to hold water—that level of control would only work on weaker minds, and yours seems anything but, my dear.”

Nadine had been around, and she picked up what he was laying down. Smiling, she bit her lip and pressed a little closer. “But how can you be _sure_ …Mister Lockheart?”

He smirked, moving his knee between her legs until she was leaning against the desk. Running his fingers against the bare skin at her hip he whispered into her ear.

“I _could_ run another test…or two…or three.”

Nadine blushed as she felt Desmond’s mustache move down her neck as he pressed a kiss against her collarbone. His fingers dragged along her top, loosening the wrappings on her chest.

“Mmm, Right there…” Nadine climbed a little farther onto the desk, dragging one leg up and around his waist to pull him in closer. She grabbed his tie in one hand, pulling him up for a proper kiss as her other hand made quick work of his belt. Desmond pulled away to shuck off his jacket. “Gorgeous, where have you been all my life?”

“Travelling the country looking for you, handsome.”

He leered, tugging off her pants and giving her bare ass a nice squeeze.

“So, any of those filthy tribals acting especially odd?” the last word was punctuated with a grunt as he entered her in one thrust. Nadine grabbed for his collar, moaning into his ear, driving him crazy.

“They’re already—ah!—a cultist drug farm, hard to get much stranger than that.”

Desmond pulled one leg over his shoulder, tipping her back until he was the one in control of her balance. “Try, sweetheart.”

“Ohhh…Jackson, the head guy, likes to go on these spirit walks. I was gonna follow him before Percy found meEEE!” Nadine squealed, clutching the desk with one hand and running her fingers through Desmond’s hair with the other.

“Good girl...” He growled out, pounding into her as he took a pert nipple between his teeth.

“Yes, yes, Des, I’m so close! If you send Percy to follow him, she’ll probably find whose behind all this.” She moaned, head falling back in rapture as she felt her release building up.

Desmond watched smugly as she shook apart in his arms, groaning his name. He committed every jiggle and shake of that warm flesh to memory before pulling out and spilling all over Calvert’s once expensive Persian rug.

“You could have done it inside me, I don’t mind.” Nadine stretched languidly across the desk before hopping up, avoiding the mess on the floor.

“Trust me, I get more pleasure out of it this way.” Desmond grabbed his handkerchief, wiping himself off before passing it to her. He watched a bead of sweat roll down her neck before disappearing into her cleavage as he re-dressed himself. He had never been more jealous of the liquid state in his life.

* * *

 

“Desmond?” Percy yawned, knocking on the door of his study. She heard rustling and knocking around before Desmond answered. “About time you dragged yourself out of bed. Get in here, I have news.”

He was sitting at his desk, looking at old papers and photo albums. Lockheart looked a little exasperated when she walked in, but she chalked up to his temper.

“So? Were you and Nadine able to make sense of any of this?”

“Oh, we straightened things out,” He smirked, but went back to his papers. “Jackson, the leader of those tribals, apparently he goes on regular spirit walks. Tail him and see what he’s up to.”

“Please?”

Desmond looked annoyed, opening his mouth, he was about to tell her off when he stiffened. He closed his mouth, straightening his glasses. “Please go do this for me, Ms. Carter. If you run into trouble, you’re more likely to handle danger without any hiccups. I…trust you to get the job done. Hurry back when you find out who’s behind this.”

Percy was floored. “Well look at you, an honest to God request; please and everything!”

She grinned, turning on her heel waving behind her. “I’ll probably be back by nightfall with a few molerat steaks and we can have a feast.” She ran back up the stairs to grab her things. No point in pretending to be a tribal now.

“Charming.” Desmond grimaced, but turned his attention to his lap as soon as he heard the front door close behind her.

“You little minx. Having fun down there?”

Nadine smiled up at him, lips hollowing out around his throbbing cock as she took him deeper.

Leaning his head back, Desmond ran a hand through her hair, gently thrusting his hips.

She licked his tip before kissing her way to his sack. “Tell me about yourself,” she muttered, before taking a ball in her mouth and sucking gently. “What kind of accent is that? Do you travel often?”

“Oh yes…” Desmond felt his knees begin to shake. “All over the world, pet. I’m a man of great _power_ ,” his hips bucked involuntarily, but Nadine didn’t seem to mind. She closed her eyes and focused on the task at hand.

“Was before the war, and still am. And I’m not alone. There are still a handful of my rivals out there. And _I_ plan to outlast every single one of them.”

A growl escaped his throat as she stopped her ministrations, making her way teasingly into his lap.

“I read that other places had other languages; can you speak some to me?”

“Maybe if you can get it out of me.”

Nadine beamed, aligning his cock with her opening. The sun was shining into her eyes, and he realized her eyes were so deep a brown, they were practically red.

“Mochiron gengo wa hanasu.”

“Yes…” She sighed, lowering herself onto his length with agonizing slowness.

“Voulez-vous me doute jamais? Por qué confiar en mí?”

She began rocking her hips, whimpering as the course skin of his belly rubbed against her clit.

“Sie sind so unterschiedlich. Così rotondo, così bella.”

She kissed from his ear to his upper lip, paying special attention to his mustache without stopping his flow of speech.

“'Ana la 'aetaqid 'annani sawf tasmah 'abadaan tadhhab. Nǐ huì gēn wǒ dào tiānyáhǎijiǎo? Budu li ya protiv, yesli vy sdelali?”

As each new language passed through his lips, Nadine’s thrusts became more urgent, her eyes falling shut as she listened in ecstasy. Desmond’s eyes glazed over as he watched her hips—those lovely hips—and felt that delicious weight across his legs. His voice got quieter and quieter as he was mesmerized by her entire being. Then he felt that fire; that penetrating all-encompassing flame. He grabbed her hips with new fervor. Driving his hips to meet hers, he grabbed the back of her neck, fingers tangling in that golden red hair, pulling her close. She swallowed his moans, teeth crashing, lips dragging, tongues dancing.

Nadine’s fingers grew white against his shoulders and she rutted desperately against him, moans becoming whimpers, and whimpers becoming a high pitched keen as he rubbed furiously against her clit.

“Ohhhh De—” She wailed, clenching around him so tight Desmond saw white. His sight cleared with her brushing the hair away from her eyes. She grinned dazedly down at him. Settling on his lap, head resting against his shoulder, breath ghosting across his ear. “Hope you don’t mind if I stay here for a bit, but I don’t think I could move if I tried.”

He sighed, but there was little annoyance behind it. Glancing to his desk, Desmond made sure there was a gun within hand's reach in case things went south.

What was this girl’s angle? There didn’t seem to _be_ one. But she was no fool, so surely there was _something_ she was using him for. Feeling his eyes grow heavy, Desmond allowed himself to nod off.

* * *

 

“After all that, I could really use a snack. You interrupted me before I could get a good meal earlier.”

Nadine yawned, easing off of him and grabbing for the desk when she nearly lost her balance.

He smirked, buttoning his pants and adjusting his glasses. “I’ll join you. I love to see girls eat.”

She winked him. “The distraction was worth it, anyway.”

She re-buttoned the yellow sun dress he had found for her in one of the many bedrooms in the mansion.

He was glad it was relatively clean. It helped him forget that the world had burned around his ears, even for just a moment.

He walked behind her as she skipped to the kitchen. His eyes never left her ass, even when she turned back to him.

“Devilled eggs or Dandy Apples?”

“Whatever you want, I’m not hungry.”

 Hopping on the counter, she grabbed a few packages of apples from the cabinet.

Desmond pulled a stool near the counter, allowing his legs to stretch.

He drank from his personal flask as she ate with one leg lazily resting on his shoulder. What a view. Desmond idly ran a finger up and down her inner thigh.

“Hungry already?” She asked raising an eyebrow.

“What is a starving man to do when such a feast is laid before him?” He returned planting a kiss on her knee.

Her hums of pleasure turned needy as he got closer to his prize. He was a gentleman after all; the least he could do was return her earlier favor.

Her fingers stroked his hair as he worked.

Desmond ignored the low rumbling he heard coming from somewhere else in the house. Probably just Geri and Freki roughhousing.

“Des...” God, he loved to hear her call him that.

“Desmond…” Her voice sounded a little more strained, he looked up as her fingers began pulling urgently on his hair. “Patience, lov—” Nadine’s eyes were screwed shut and she looked in pain.

“Shit! Desmond, he’s in my mind! Someone’s in my _mind_!”

Desmond jumped up from his chair, whistling for his dogs. Taking her shoulders, he shook her “What are you talking about? What is he telling you?!”

Nadine struggled in his grasp, trying to get away. “He wants me to kill you! I won’t! I won’t do it!”

He heard the front doors crashed open, then the yelp of his dogs…damn they were in trouble. He dragged Nadine with him down the stairs, shotgun in hand. The damned tribals were everywhere! He released Nadine’s hand. “Run for my office, now!”

She covered her head, clearly still in pain from the voice raging in her head.

Desmond fired blast after blast into the tribals’ chests. He saw his dogs fall, one after the other by tribal axes. Cursing, he ran after Nadine, barring the doors to his office behind him, pulling the carpet out of the way, he began inputting the panic room passcode.

The door opened with a hiss. He turned to Nadine, curled in a corner. “What are you waiting for?? Get in!”

She shook her head, eyes clenched shut. “No! Go without me, I don’t want to hurt you—I don’t want you to have to kill me!”

Desmond didn’t have time for this. He shot her full of Med-x before catching her limp form.

Calvert! That bastard! He knew that madman was behind all of this. Neuroscience? Why didn’t he think of it before?

As soon as they were safe in the panic room, he didn’t hesitate to detonate the C-4 he had stored in the walls. The room shook, but they were safe, for now.

An hour later, he heard Percy slamming her fist against the hatch door. “Desmond, you fucking better still be alive!” He let her in. She was covered in blood, some of it hers.

“What happened?” he asked shortly.

“That Calvert guy, He’s behind everything. His tribal minions were setting up a signal beacon on the boardwalk. He was going to try to spread his mind control across the entire east coast! I jammed the frequency though. Better, I know where he is.” She stopped to catch her breath, noticing Nadine for the first time. Desmond had laid her on a cot as soon as he knew they were safe.

“Where are Freki and Geri?”

“Where do you think? Those bastards killed my dogs!”

Percy watched him gather ammo and stims. He was already dressed in combat armor.

He pointed to the computer terminals in one corner. “I’ve found where that fucker is hiding. Help me take care of him, and you can have whatever we find. But Calvert is mine.”

“What about Nadine?” Percy took the stims he passed to her before strapping on a helmet and armor, herself.

“She’ll be out for a while, but she’s fine. Are you coming or not?” Desmond was completely calm, and it scared her a little.

She watched him scribble a note, leaving it for Nadine.

* * *

 

Desmond was a man possessed. Percy finally got to see him in a fight and it was truly a sight to behold. She had his back as he hacked computer terminals, shutting down turrets and tossing pulse grenades until any robotic foes were rendered useless. He was accurate, efficient, and deadly. When they finally came upon Calvert, Desmond wasn’t even fazed to see his foe was nothing more than a brain suspended in a giant aquarium of plasma, he simply shot until the glass broke and the brain was splattered across the floor. _He_ couldn’t hear Calvert’s voice in his head after all, demanding that Percy save him before begging for mercy. He didn’t hear Calvert’s screams get cut short shortly after the glass broke.

She watched as he stomped relentlessly on Calvert’s brain, swearing and cursing about his dead dogs, Nadine, and things a long time coming. Percy didn’t turn away, but watches him until there is hardly anything left of Calvert,

After he’s done, Desmond looks up, as if just noticing her. "What the hell are you still doing here? There’s a store room down the hall: it’s a Scavver’s wet dream. I’m sure it’s more than enough to compensate for your troubles."

He brushed past her, following the cables that once connected Calvert to a vast laboratory. All his notes, every record right until he died. It was all here. Desmond would have been overjoyed if not for the circumstances that led to his victory.

"What, after all this? You can just wave me off. It’s done, Desmond. Shouldn't we go get Nadine? What if she wakes up and we aren't there?" Desmond paused. He was actually surprised that he agreed with her. Nadine was upset enough as it was. She would be relieved to know that Calvert is dead.

He followed Percy into the store rooms, helping her carry some of it. This rival had been particularly trying. And yet he wasn’t relieved that he could strike another name off the list…not quite. He was tired but also restless, and he had a feeling Percy felt the same. Her shoulders were tense, and she was slow to take up any new weapon before packing it away in her bag.

When they got back to the panic room, Nadine was nowhere to be found.

“No sign of a struggle.” Percy said, as if that would reassure him.

“Nothing seems stolen either.” He sneered, kicking a nearby empty water bottle. He wanted to do more than just kick a fucking water bottle, but throwing a tantrum wouldn’t change anything. Taking off his glasses, Desmond settled on the cot as Percy laid out a bed roll on the opposite corner. Rubbing what was left of the bridge of his nose as he took off his glasses, he asked “So what is the cold blooded killer going to do now that her job is done?”

Percy scoffed. “Says the man that stomped a brain into grey jelly just a few hours ago?”

She stretched, staring at the ceiling as her nerves settled. To have someone invade her mind like that had been…violating. Percy had been through a lot, but that was a totally different experience. One that she hoped to forget soon.

“I’ve been wondering about that for a while. When I came here, I was running away from my problems. Any now, there’s nothing for me here and I’ll probably go crawling back.” She rolled over to face him. “What do you do with your problems?”

Desmond laughed, a hollow, barking sort of laugh. “I shoot them in the face then piss on their corpses, what does it look like?” Percy just stared at him until he calmed down. “I chase them down and I get rid of them, because if I don’t they will find me. And I don’t want to be the one caught unawares. I going to give you some advice, killer. Running only delays the inevitable. Face whatever is coming for you, or have the decency to make it easier for them to put a bullet through your head.” With that he turned over, ending the conversation.

* * *

 

They trudged in silence towards the boardwalk. The locals stayed out of their way, and the tribals were nowhere to be found. The silence was palpable. Percy was still shaken from the night before, and Desmond was practically steaming. Not because Nadine had disappeared—no, he had expected that—but because she hadn’t _done_ anything! He had expected her to steal like Percy, or drill him for information. But he had given away nothing of importance, and she had never asked anything of him. Desmond hated to admit, but she had been more than just a much needed shag. Percy was looking at him funny. “How the hell do you walk around in a three piece suit, and only get mud on your shoes?”

“Pardon me for having some sense of self awareness.” He snapped, lighting up a cigarette. They were coming to the docks, and Percy heard Tobar ringing the bell. She waved towards the figure in the wheel house.

“Where are you going after this, Desmond?”

“South. There’s an oil baron in the Texas commonwealth I need to put down.”

“What are you going to do when the last name is scratched off your list?”

He smiles wryly, thinking of one man in particular “I will live in the lap of luxury. Somewhere warm, but not so southern.”

They got close enough to hear the ferryman calling to them.

“About time you two showed up! Percy, There’s a man in the brig I think you’d like to talk to! And Desmond, I appreciate the note, but next time a gun or two would be more appreciated.”

He stopped in his tracks. He couldn’t help grin playing across his face as she ran up to them.

Throwing a wink at him, Nadine turned to face Percy. “So when I woke up _alone_ ,” she gave him another look, “I thought to myself: who on this God forsaken beach do we know who isn’t stoned off their ass, a local, and has connections to the tribals _and_ the outside world?”

“Tobar…”

“ _Bing bing!_ ”

“I’m going to kick his ass.” Percy zeroed in on the boat, stalking down the docks.

“Why didn’t you stay in the panic room? Percy and I had everything under control.” They followed after her, but kept their distance.

“I wanted to be useful. I didn’t trust myself you help you take out Calvert, but I had to do something. And,” Nadine kicked a piece of trach into the water. “If I have a boat, I can travel anywhere. If you’d like, I can travel with you.” She refused to look at him. She let him make the first move as he did before. Nadine leaned into him as Desmond wrapped his arm around her waist.

 


End file.
